Two Pieces
by fabrevansfanfics
Summary: AU. Quinn and Samuel, two teenagers with far from perfect lives. When they find each other, they also find out that two broken pieces can fit well together.
1. Prologue

_There's a boy, lost his way, looking for someone to play_

_There's a girl in the window tears rolling down her face_

_We're only lost children, trying to find a friend_

_Trying to find our way back home_

**_Prologue_**

— What now? — She asked, a small smile playing on the corner of her rosy lips. He doubted that anything would ever be as enigmatic and (equally) beautiful as her smile.

Sam had no idea how to answer that question, however. "What now?" Where this would end? Where are they going? Two teenagers running from their sick, twisted realities; leaving an entire life behind, trying to find a new path. They still had some of Quinn's money saved up and full tank, but nowhere to go and no one to ask for help. Maybe his grandmother back in Tennessee, but knowing all members of his family, they would probably find a way to ruin this for him. No, they were alone, and that was how it was supposed to be.

He reached for her hand, his long, rough fingers finding their way into her slender, soft-skinned ones. Beside him, Quinn sighed long and slowly, letting out a soft moan as her sore muscles stretched. The grass beneath them wasn't the softest and was far from being the ideal place to rest, but it was all they had. She didn't mind, though. She was right where she needed to be.

— Now we run. — Sam joked, looking over at her with a grin. The smaller blonde giggled, loud and girly, rolling her hazel eyes.

— Oh, mister genius, aren't we already?

— We run forever.

Quinn sat up quickly, looking down at him with a light frown. Sam didn't move from his previous position, an arm positioned under his blonde head, the other's hand holding hers. He knew what was coming, but he didn't mind because he already had an answer for her complaints. Quinn, coming from the broken family she had, didn't believe in "forever". She didn't believe in the world, the idea it brought.

— We're way too young to talk about "forever".

As she said the words, Sam mouthed them silently along with her, which only made the girl slap his arm, annoyed. He grimaced playfully, chuckling at her expression.

— Ouch, Q, you trying to kill me here? — He joked, although they both knew that nothing she could do to physically harm him would actually hurt.

— If I have to.

— Nah, I will tell you what. — He continued, sitting up so they were face to face, eye level. Sam couldn't stop himself from leaning forward and kissing her lips softly, just because he could and wanted to. Quinn let her expression soften a tiny bit, but she still had that pouty look that drove him insane; he knew he'd always fall for that face. — If we're way too young to talk about forever, how about we stay together long enough to be old and, then, talk about forever?

She seemed to be in deep thought then, a perfect shaped eyebrow lifted, her deep eyes studying his face. Sam just squeezed her hand in his, then, as if trying to assure himself that she wouldn't run from him. It wouldn't be the first time.

Quinn let her tongue trace her outline of her pink lips, swallowed back a sigh and looked down at their attached hands.

— You said "forever" twice.

— What? — He snorted, looking at her quizzically. The girl just shook her head, looking back up at him and shrugged.

— You said a word twice in the same sentence. You know I hate when you do that.

Quinn never failed to surprise him, and Sam couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud, wrapping his arms around her small figure, pulling her to his lap. She struggled to get out of his grip, but at the end just let herself to be taken. She rested her head against his chest and Sam let his hand find its way into it, kissing her forehead in between laughter.

It was insane her ability to make him so happy, so full, perfect… just by being there. She was his escape, and he would wait for her to be ready for their "forever" as long she needed him to.

— I'm taking that as a yes.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! I have decided to put an end in my hiatus to post something I wrote a while ago; it's already seven chapters ahead and I have a lot of free time at the moment, so I can assure that this is going to be a long-lasting story. About the updates for "One For Him" and "Leading Path", I don't know when it's happening, because I have no muse for them.

Now, I hope everyone likes this story as much as I like it. So far, I believe it's one of my favorite things I've ever written, and I'll post the first chapter tomorrow (if there is any feedback for the prologue).

**Song Used:** Two Pieces, Demi Lovato


	2. CHAPTER 1: You found me

**_Chapter 1: _**_Lost and insecure, you found me…_

Earbuds plugged into ears while the soft beat of Coldplay's "Yellow" played. The rain was falling and, once again, those old 'All Star' were too slippery for her liking. Over her head, a grey — much like the sky above — umbrella, keeping her blonde locks from getting wet and her perfect make up from being ruined. _Perfect_. Quinn wanted to laugh at the thought of anything about her life being perfect. That was just a façade, just a good image for the world around her. And who was she for that world? Just a normal girl, daughter of the town's best lawyer, A+ student and president of the school's literature club. Quinn never got in trouble, said a curse word, smoke or drank. She is eighteen but could very well to be considered an adult, since she acted as such since she was eleven.

When Judy Fabray died, six years ago, she left two daughters and a loving husband in this world. Quinn was eleven and Amelia was only five, and they were as close as two siblings could be, which turned out to be a blessing when their mother passed away. Said "loving husband", Russell, lost his mind when his wife died. Judy was his life, his entire world. The man was lost, no reason left to live. Not even the two daughters he had, two scared children waiting for him at home every night, only to meet a drunk jerk instead.

Thinking about it, Quinn almost felt bad for blaming her father so much. The two of them, her parents, had the most beautiful love story one could ever think about. And they were so happy, all four of them, that sometimes she would close her eyes and pretend everything was like before… of course, her wishful thinking was interrupted whenever he stumbled into their home, barking drunk orders at her and her little sister, calling them out on their tiniest mistakes, blaming them for everything wrong that was in his life. And, surely, there was the worst part. Quinn felt the dry lump in her throat forming when she thought about it; his heavy hands colliding against her face, strong fingers grabbing her delicate arms and pulling, tossing her away from him whenever she tried to approach or help.

The memories sent a shiver down her spine, making the covered bruises on her face, arms and ribs pulse with the pain she was already so familiar with. Tears filled her hazel eyes but she wiped them away before anyone could see them falling. She would have time to cry later, after putting Amelia in bed and curling up under her own covers, praying to God to wake her up from that nightmare.

— Oh, good morning, Quinny. I didn't know you were coming today. — Said Annelise, the owner of the flower shop Quinn worked at, as soon did she walk into the place. — I thought I had given you the Saturday off this week?

Quinn gave the woman her best smile, the one she was a pro at after so many years of faking, and shook her head, putting the umbrella down and closing the door behind her.

— You did, Anne, yes. — She chuckled, walking up to the older woman and kissing her cheek softly. Annelise was around sixty and the closest to a mother figure that Quinn have had in a while. The woman was sweet, always had a good story to tell and, probably because of her big passion for the, smelled like flowers all the time. — Turns out that Amy is spending the day at a friend's house and I didn't want to be home alone all day. Is it okay?

Lies. She wouldn't be alone, per say. There probably would be a very hungover Russell who would avoid her all day in his office until it was time for him to leave and get drunk again.

— Of course it's okay, darling. — Annelise replied with her usual sweet tone and smile, touching Quinn's arm gently. The blonde winced in pain, happy to be wearing a cardigan to hide the bruises, and recovered quickly. Anne didn't buy it, and Quinn knew very well. She knew that her boss was suspicious about her home situation. It wasn't the first time she had caught her, either hiding bruises or taking meds for pain. — Can you help me with those boxes in the backroom? I have to get rid of all the old paperwork.

Quinn nodded her head obediently and skipped to the backroom to do as told before Anne could say anything else. She had never asked anything personal about Quinn's life in one year and a half she worked there, but the girl knew that she was suspicious and the last thing she needed was people talking about her and her family. It was enough to be known as "that orphan girl"; she didn't need to be known as an abused child either.

— Quinny, I'm going out to get some tea, do you need anything? — Anne called from the other room, waking the girl up from her deep thoughts. She just shouted back a "No, thanks" and a minute or so later, she heard the soft bells of the door ringing as her boss left the shop.

Quinn continued to check the boxes for the old paperwork when she heard the bells ringing again, which made her frown and shake her head. Anne probably forgot her key again, as it had quite became a thing for the older woman lately. She got up from her knees and smoothed her dress, walking back up to the front room.

— Anne, did you forget… — She started, but was cut off by the figure of a tall male, not the short old lady she was expecting. He looked around nineteen, tall with broad shoulders and blonde hair cut short; he was a mix between a soldier and a model, his posture firm and arms crossed over his wide chest. Quinn couldn't help but notice how serious he looked. — I'm sorry, can I help you?

The guy cleared his throat and licked his full lips that had been previously pressed together in a firm line.

— I need flowers.

Quinn snorted, looking down at her feet. _Obviously_. The man seemed to notice how stupid that had sounded, because he _was_ in a flower shop after all, so he scrunched up his nose and sighed.

— Sorry. I meant, um, flowers for dead people.

This time she couldn't hold back a chuckle, looking up from her feet to this stranger's face. Her laughter died when she noticed, once again, how serious he was. His jaw — a perfectly straight and manly jaw, she noticed — was clenched and he hadn't moved from his previous position, arms crossed over his chest and standing tall. She swallowed dry in her throat and nodded her head.

— I'm sorry, sir. What kind of flowers do you like? Roses, violets…?

— Anything. Just— just give me anything.

Quinn nodded her head, looking around the shop to try and get some ideas. Her eyes met a dozen of white roses with a hint of pink on the counter, probably some client's order already, and she walked up to it, taking one out of the bouquet and offering it to the tall man that stood a few feet from her.

— These are my favorite. Annelise herself makes them.

The man didn't move from his position, just nodded his head once as if giving Quinn the okay. But she wasn't taking just dead. Whoever this guy was visiting, this "dead person", probably deserved more than a flower that some girl they didn't know was picking. For some reason, she suddenly was mad at that tall, unbelievable handsome stranger that wouldn't even look her in the eye.

— Don't you wanna smell it? — She shrugged, walking towards him and offering him the flower again. The man just stared back at her, not moving at all. — It's called Rosalie.

After what seemed like forever, he broke out a small, barely there smile.

— What? — He asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

Quinn smiled back weakly, offering the flower again and biting the inside of her cheek when he finally took it.

— The flower's name. It's Rosalie. Rosalie is Annelise's daughter's name.

The stranger smelled the flower, and his shy smile grew a bit larger. Quinn snorted when she noticed how small and out of place the rose looked in his big, strong hand.

— Who's Annelise? — Stranger asked. Quinn also noticed that his tall posture had changed slightly, and he looked less like a lion ready to attack now.

— Annelise owns the shop. She is my boss. — She explained, walking back towards the counter and grabbing the bouquet before handing it to the man. — I'm assuming you're not from here, because everyone knows Annelise in this town.

The man grinned and Quinn would be damned if she didn't admit that was the single most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She shook her head briefly, not allowing herself to act like a silly teenager like those in the movies that her sister likes to watch.

— No, I'm not. I'm here to visit my, um, my family… My father's family, actually.

Quinn nodded her head, trying to get busy with the bouquet arrangement. In all truth, she wanted to know more; about his life, his family, who he was. Even his name, for Christ's sake.

She hated herself for acting like that, all hormonal and not at all like herself.

— Oh. Okay. Um, it'll be $20. — She said, not looking from her hands that held the bouquet up to him. The guy took it, and if she had been looking at him, she would know that he didn't take his eyes off her face.

Stranger handed her the money and Quinn just took it, murmuring a quiet and simple "Thank you" and forcing a smile to the client. Not that her eyes ever met his face again, afraid that she would make a fool out of herself again. She couldn't allow herself to act so silly, so much like the girls her age. She had a lot more to worry about than some handsome guy.

Said handsome guy was on his way to the door, not looking back, when he stopped abruptly. Quinn lifted her gaze from her hands to him, frowning. Stranger turned around flashing the same grin she felt her knees going weak for a few minutes before, and Quinn swallowed a dry gulp.

— My name is Samuel, by the way.

_Samuel._ She nodded her head, feeling her face warm with the obvious blush that was now there.

— Quinn.

He nodded his head once, and she swore she saw his eyes changing color from dark green to bright blue when he spoke again.

— I'll see you around, Q.

And the weird stranger who had walked into this place looking like a soldier, left the same shop with the posture of a teenager, smiling ear-to-ear.

Little did they both knew, their lives had changed forever right then.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, everyone! I loved your reviews and I hope everyone continue to send them my way, because that's the best part of being a writer: feedback. This story, like I said before, makes me very proud and I hope it amuses you as much as it does to me.

This chapter you'll know a little bit about Quinn's story _and_ you will get to see their first encounter. Yes, there will be mentions of child abuse in this story so if you're not comfortable with it, don't read. Of course, I won't go too hard into the topic because it's touchy for me as well, but it is part of what makes this story so beautiful (to me, at least). As for this Sam... gosh, he is my favorite. I hope everyone falls for him as hard as I have. Enjoy this chapter and the next one will come this week, if there is enough feedback!

**Song Used** (for the title): You Found Me, The Fray


	3. CHAPTER 2: A long time coming

**_Chapter 2:_** _It's been a long time coming…_

Quinn left work earlier than usual that day. Samuel — she felt a chill running down her spine when she thought about the guy — had been their one of their very few clients that day, and Annelise had sent her home because she was closing earlier. The blonde had spent most of her day trying not to think (and cursing herself when she did) about that handsome stranger who had made her knees feel like jelly. It was so annoying to think that he could have that type of effect on her. No one had ever attracted Quinn that much, not even the guys on TV or the singer of her favorite band. But there was something about Samuel…

Maybe it was the way he stood, tall and strong, the face of a man who had seen more in his young years than anyone should have. Or his voice, husky and low. Maybe his boyish smile, something Quinn would only find out when he was leaving the place. And yet, she couldn't figure out what changed his mood; from serious and "I-hate-the-world-including-you" to all smiles and "Well-maybe-the-world-isn't-so-bad". Quinn giggled as she thought about that, and the sound echoed down the empty street she was walking, towards Amelia's friend's house.

The sound of her own laughter made her feel warm inside. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed, giggled even; she had to admit the sound suit her well, all girly and young.

Quinn wished she could laugh more often.

Standing in front of the white, simple house of the Williams, Quinn pressed the doorbell and stood back on her sneakers. Usually she would hear Amelia's squeals when she knew she was around to pick her up, but today there was no sound. The blonde frowned, but shrugged right after, thinking that the girls were probably inside. A minute or so later, Mrs. William opened the door with a polite smile.

— Quinn? Hi, darling, what's wrong?

Quinn offered her a smile and a shrug.

— I'm here to get Amy, Mrs. William. Can you ask her to come out here?

The woman's polite smile was gone a second after, and she rubbed her hands together, trying to smile again. All people in Lima were like that; all smiles, no matter what, so the outsiders wouldn't see their broken insides. But Mrs. William looked more guilty than anything and Quinn frowned.

— What's wrong…? — She asked, feeling her mouth dry and the bittersweet taste in her tongue. She knew what was wrong. — Where's Amy?

— Well, you see honey, your father picked her up earlier today.

_No_. No, no, no. Shit, fuck. _No_. Little Quinn Fabray, one that never swore, couldn't think of enough curse names right now. She had already talked to Mrs. William about that, about not letting Amelia go with him, about waiting for _her_ to pick the girl up. What in the world was wrong with that woman? Amelia wouldn't be going back there, she knew for sure.

Without saying a world, Quinn turned on her heel and ran down the street. The walk from the Williams' to her place would be about five minutes, but in less than three she was there, hands trembling as she turned the key and got in the house. Quinn's lungs were on fire, her throat was dry and her head wouldn't stop pulsing with the beat of her racing heart. She was scared, mostly, of what she was going to find there.

And scared she should be, because as soon she walked into the kitchen, she found a mess. There was broken glass everywhere, red wine poured on the floor and a little, tiny blonde that looked too much like their dead mother for her safety curled up in a ball, right in the corner. Quinn's heart broke, she hated herself and the world they lived. Amelia was shaking and as soon she saw Quinn, her eyes opened widely and she stood up.

Quinn didn't let her walk to her, because of the broken glass on the floor and the girl's bare feet, and she ran towards Amelia. A second later, she had her little sister wrapped around her, sobbing into her chest as Quinn rocked her back and forth. She felt the sting of salty tears in her eyes, and she knew she was crying as well. Amy couldn't see her cry, she always did her best to not let her do, but right now… Right now, it was impossible to not cry seeing how hurt and broken her baby girl was. Amelia was her world, her everything. She would never forgive herself if something happened to her.

— Amy, look at me. — She asked, and the girl did so. — Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Baby, tell me he didn't hurt you…

Amelia thought about it for a second and bit her lip, looking a lot like what Quinn could remember of their mother. She sighed.

— He yelled a lot, Quinny. And he threw bottles on the walls. And then he pushed me and... Why does he hate us, Quinny?

Quinn swallowed back a sob, holding Amelia close to her chest. The girl wasn't hurt, not physically at least. Right now, she felt like she could kill him with her own bare hands.

— I love you, isn't that enough? I love you with everything I have in my heart, little Amy.

Amelia giggled, and the older girl couldn't help but smile. That sound, it meant the world to her.

Later that day, as she put Amelia in bed after a long bath and a story, Quinn went downstairs to clean up his mess. She cleaned the kitchen and rolled her eyes at the smell of alcohol that filled everywhere. It wasn't all because of the wine, but he was probably drunk already when he did it. The thought of his dirty hands pushing Amelia away, yelling at her… Quinn felt sick and had to take a deep breath to not vomit right there.

After that job was done, she sat down on the kitchen floor and cried. Cried and cried, nonstop, sobbing and groaning in frustration. Her whole body shook and the little voice inside her head kept yelling at her to be strong, don't let him do that to them. But she wasn't so strong, she was only a child herself. Without thinking, Quinn stood up, put on a coat, locked the house and left.

Her destination wasn't clear to herself until she was confronted with the view of the bar that Russell always went. The loud music, talks and drunk laughter coming from the place made her nauseous again, but she shook it away. A minute before, she didn't know what she was doing there, but now she did — very well.

Gathering all the bravery she could manage, Quinn stepped into the place, looking around to find him. It was obvious how miserable his life was when she found the man leaning against the counter, talking to the bartender, while he swallowed back a yellow liquid. She didn't know what was that, maybe a whiskey? She almost felt sorry for her father.

That is, until she remembered finding Amelia so scared, hopeless because of _him_. Her view went red and she wanted nothing more than to stab him right there.

— Hey! You! — She surprised herself with the tone of her voice when she yelled that. All eyes turned to her, some drunk men catcalling the young flesh in the place. She didn't even respond to it. Quinn walked up to her father and grabbed his arm, turning him to her easily. Russell's eyes went wide; he never thought he'd see here. — You better never fucking touch my sister, you got it? _Never_, Russell, or I swear to God, I'll kill you with my bare hands.

The place went silent right then, except for the low jazz playing in the background. Russell took a minute to understand what was happening, but when he did, he wasn't pleased.

— What are you doing here?

— I asked you a fucking question, Russell, did you understand me or didn't you? — Quinn's heart was racing in her chest and she never felt braver than now. Her throat was on fire and she knew she would cry the moment she left the place, but right now, she had to get an answer from him. — She adores you! She loves you, and God only knows why since you're a fucked-up piece of shit, but she does. So no, you won't break her heart like you did to me. You _won't_ hurt her like you hurt me, dad.

Russell never looked more sober in his life, even though Quinn wasn't fooled. He was drunk and he probably wouldn't remember that the next day.

— You shouldn't be…

Quinn cut him short, and she couldn't believe herself when she felt her palm colliding against his face, making a strong and loud sound.

— Stay away from her, dad. — She sobbed, not being able to control her tears any longer. She had slapped her father, she had stood up for him after years of abuse. Would that change things? Would he wake up and realize what he had been doing?

Clearly no, she found out a minute later. After recovering from the slap, Russell grabbed her arm so hard that she knew that there would be a new bruise there. Quinn winced of pain.

— Let me go. — She whispered to him, her voice weak with sobs — Daddy, please.

That didn't stop him, and Quinn knew it wouldn't. His arm lifted and she closed her eyes, waiting for the pain that would follow. What she heard, not saw, was the sound of a punch and something cracking. Quinn's eyes opened widely and she was faced with someone she thought she'd never see again.

_Samuel_.

— What the fuck did you…? Who are you?! — Russell yelled, his hand covering a bloody nose. — You're fucking dead, I'm gonna-

— Get the hell out of here right now if you don't want it to get worse. — The younger man said in a low tone, his voice sounding dangerous even to Quinn, who was safely hiding behind his broad back, eyes wide as she watched everything. Russell stood there, looking up at the slightly taller guy. — Go!

And with that, Russell ran out of the place, cursing the heavens for the pain he was now feeling. Quinn's heart skipped a beat when the handsome stranger from earlier turned on his heel and looked down at her with worried eyes. His bright green eyes were a deep shade now, looking almost blue. He gently touched her arm where Russell had grabbed. She winced of pain.

— Are you okay? Did he hurt you?

Quinn shook her head, not trusting her voice around him.

— Doesn't look like that. We should get you to a hospital.

The blonde snorted, shaking her head.

— It's nothing I'm not used to.

— You shouldn't be used to that.

Quinn shrugged, looking down at her hands. He was right, he knew he was, but there was nothing she could do. Maybe someday, but not now.

— So… are you following me, or? — She asked, trying to change the subject. Samuel grinned sideways and gently turned her around, resting his hand on the small of her back and leading the two of them out of the bar. Quinn didn't fit that place, and neither did him, but for some reason, he was there. When they were out in the empty street, she asked again. — So?

Samuel shook his head, not moving his hand from her back.

— No, Quinn, I was not following you. I was getting a drink, simple as that.

_Quinn_. She loved how her name sounded in his deep voice.

— I didn't know you can drink… — She whispered, surprised with herself when said the words.

Samuel chuckled softly, narrowing his eyes at her.

— How old do you think I am?

She shrugged, looking down at her feet again as they walked. She had no idea where they were going.

— I just turned 21 last month, to answer your question. I can drink, but I don't do it often. Thank God I decided to do so tonight.

He was so polite, so serious. He didn't sound 21, he sounded 30 at least. And Quinn couldn't help but smile softly when he thanked God for the opportunity to save her.

— Where are we going? — She asked after a couple minutes of comfortable silence. They weren't headed towards her house, and of course, he didn't know where it was.

Samuel smiled, and his mysterious smile turned out to be prettier than his boyish one.

— You will see.

For some reason, Quinn trusted the stranger she had met that morning more than she did with most people in her life.

* * *

**A/N: **Hi, my lovelies! I couldn't be happier with the amazing feedback I've been getting, so _thank you_. Sorry this chapter took some time to come out, I had a busy week but I promise I will continue posting. As for this chapter... Well, I like it a lot, so I hope you do too. Let me know and stick around for the next one!


	4. CHAPTER 3: Brick by boring brick

**_Chapter 3: _**_You built up a world of magic, because your real life is tragic_

When Quinn woke up the next time, she had a difficult time separating which had actually happened last night and which had been part of her foggy dream, result of a night of bad sleep and a full mind.

She _could_ remember getting home to find Amelia scared and crying because of the wrecked mess that was their father. She felt goose bumps rising on her skin, the sound of her little sister's sobs all too loud and alive in her head. Quinn then remembered putting Amy down to sleep and leaving the house, ready to face her own demons.

Russell was sitting in the same bar he went every day since his wife died, sipping on the same old drink he had every time, looking the perfect portrait of a miserable man full of his own demons inside his head. The eighteen-years-old girl swallowed back a sob when she thought about confronting her father, saying things she never thought she would say out loud to him. The worst part is there was still so much more to be said.

Then she remembered Samuel. He had appeared out of nowhere and saved her from the heavy palm of her abusive father's hand. He had taken her away from there and they had walked together…

A smile slowly grew on her lips as she thought about how the night before ended.

* * *

— Alright, can you tell me where we are going now?

Samuel smiled sideways, looking the smaller girl beside him from the corner of his eye. Quinn bit her lip and looked away when their eyes met. She felt so stupid for acting that way, but that handsome stranger had the power to make her feel like a normal teenager, something she had given up on years before.

— My, um, father used to bring me here when I was little. — He explained, indicating the way into an empty street which led to nowhere that Quinn knew. Suddenly, she regretted coming with him. — Don't worry, I'm not a psycho and I'm not going to hurt you.

She relaxed a bit after his words and chuckled, rolling her eyes.

— I didn't say anything.

— Yeah, but you thought.

She looked back up to him and their eyes met for a brief second, bright green into deep hazel, and there was a connection so strong that they both had to look away — not because they were embarrassed, but it just seemed like they weren't ready to go there yet.

The thought scared the girl, but she let it pass when Sam exclaimed a "tah-dah!", meaning they had arrived their destination.

It was an old, abandoned playground and there was no light but the moon's. It gave the place a creepy look, sure, but for some reason, it also looked so… peaceful. Quinn gave the man beside her a quizzical look and frowned, but the smile never left her features.

— Well, as I told you, I was a child the last time I came here… — He chuckled with an apologetic shrug — And it didn't look half as creepy as it does now and—

— No.

It was his turn to give her a frown.

— No?

Quinn smiled, shrugging and stepping forward to the park.

— No. I like it, it's not… um… _entirely_ creepy.

They had both laughed and she had found out then that the sound of his laughter was better than any music she had ever listened to.

* * *

Just hours before, Quinn had found out many things about the stranger. His name was Samuel Evans, but most of his friends called him Sam. His father used to call him Sambo, and they both laughed at that. She decided to not ask why he kept talking about his father in past tense, but she could figure out the reason.

He _had _been in Army, as she thought earlier the day before, when they met. In fact, he had enlisted when he was eighteen and was dismissed now because of personal issues in his family. He didn't go further into the topic, and she was fine with that. He had three siblings, all of them younger, but it had been a while since he had seen them. It had also been a while since he had been home, which was — and she smiled widely when she realized where the accent came from — in Nashville, Tennessee.

The blonde was glad that he didn't ask about her father and the situation he had found in the middle of that bar.

Samuel didn't tell her what he was doing in Lima, but the rest of their night had been spent on little conversation while they swayed back and forth in those old swings. He had told her that it brought him a lot of memories, and she swore she saw his eyes getting wet, but he was quick to go back to his military self, looking older than his twenty-one years old.

A couple of hours had passed when she told him she had to get home because her little sister was sleeping alone. Despite Quinn telling him it was not necessary, he had walked her home and they said their goodbyes with comfortable smiles, but no unnecessary touch. She was slowly realizing that Samuel's boundaries were a lot close to hers. They didn't like to go further into things that weren't absolutely needed at that moment. And, right then, she was completely fine with a shy goodbye and a "See you around". She didn't even have his phone number, and God knew she'd rather die before being the one to ask for that.

Quinn, finally, rolled off the bed and went back to her bedroom, kissing her sister's forehead and leaving her to sleep a few more hours. She couldn't have that — there was still a mess downstairs she had to clean before Amy woke up. And, like a bucket of cold water, reality hit her hard.

She couldn't be the happy, normal teenager everyone her age was. She was still the fucked up kid she was the day before, and she would still be that tomorrow.

Fighting back the tears when she found Russell passed out in the couch, she went straight to the kitchen and started the damage control she always had to deal with the day after. It was wrong and so unfair that _she _had to deal with that. It was so fucked that _she_ couldn't be a normal girl, daydreaming in her bed about the guy she had met the day before.

She would never be normal.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh my God, I can't apologize enough for how long this took! Turns out that my computer was effed up, and I just got it back from the store. Thank you for being patient! I hope everyone likes _and _reviews this chapter, because I believe it brings a little perspective that this is not a cliche love story. (I hope so, at least!) And... maybe... ahem, I _might_ post another chapter sooner than you expect, so stay with me! xX


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